


The Ladder

by gspurdza



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Loss of Innocence, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Slow Burn, slightly AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-04-13 17:52:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 48
Words: 19,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14117727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gspurdza/pseuds/gspurdza
Summary: Poor Jughead is homeless and in need of a place to stay one cold, stormy night. Betty comes to his rescue, in more ways then one.





	1. Betty

It was the loud bang of the wooden ladder against the pane of her window that startled Betty awake. Her eyes flew open, frantically searching the room for the masked man who had undoubtedly broken in and was here to finish her off. Instead she was meet with the site of a very wet, beanie clad boy with his forehead and palm pressed up against her window, begging entrance. Throwing back the covers Betty scrambled to unlock her window and let Jughead Jones tumble unceromoniously unto her window seat and bedroom floor. 'Jug, what the hell?! You scared the crap out of me, what are you doing here? I thought you were a murderer...' she hissed. Her words trailed off however, as she took in his full appearance. Though it was storming out and unseasonably cold, Jughead stood in nothing but his beanie, S T-shirt and jeans; all stained dark and clinging to his body from the rain. His shoes looked slightly muddy and waterlogged like he'd been walking around for hours in the weather. It was his face that was most alarming to Betty. Jugheads eyes glimmered with unshed tears as he mumbled apologies, his head hung low. 'I'm sorry Bets, I know I shouldn't have come, I just ....I didnt have anywhere else to go.' With that final statement Jugheads voice cracked and his battle was lost as tears began to cascade silently down his already wet face. Betty, feeling chilled, her simple tank top and panties doing little to keep her warm against the gust of air brought in by his appearance, couldn't stop her instinctual reaction to pull Jughead into her. His wet clothes causing Betty's nipples to harden and goosebumps to rise on her exposed flesh. Jughead seemed not to notice as he gratefully burrowed his face in the loose waves of her blonde hair and continued to silently cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fanfic attempt. Let me know if you think it's worth continuing.


	2. Jughead

Jughead Jones did not cry. Not when he found out Jason blossom died. Not when Reggie Mantle had broken his nose during 5th grade gym class. Not when his mom left and took his beloved sister with her. So why his face had decided to betray him in front of Betty Cooper of all people he had no idea. Be that as it may, try as he might, Jughead couldn't get himself to stop now either. He had been internally berating himself the whole way to her house, up the ladder, and when he finally climbed in her room. 'Stupid, stupid, stupid'. He felt a wave of shame overtake him as he stood, dripping onto Betty Cooper's pink carpet, noting out of the corner of his eye her flimsy PJs (if one could call them that) and her sinfully beautiful green eyes looking as tired as one might expect at 1:30 in the morning. The apologies began to tumble out of his mouth, soon followed by his tears. Betty wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into her heat and comforting embrace as Jugheads own arms wrapped tightly around her tiny waist.

It was the first time in months Jughead had felt safe, and whole. The first time he had been touched by another human in such a loving way and it only fueled the emotions bubbling out of him. As embarrassed and guilty as he felt, he couldn't bring himself to pull away.


	3. Betty

Betty's mind raced as she continued to hug Jughead and let him cry. What on earth was a 16 year old boy doing out in the middle of the night in the pouring rain? What had driven Jug to the point where, as he said, he had no where else to go? Where were his parents, FP or Gladys? What drove her friend to tears? (The same friend who always had a sarcastic comment or smirk on his face regardless of the day he was having). How would she explain any of this if her parents heard them and woke up?

Betty's whirling mind came to a halt as she heard the telltale sniff and deep exhale from Jughead signaling that his tears had finally seemed to cease. She could also hear both their sets of teeth chattering from the cold and quickly tried to take control of the situation.

'Jug your soaking wet, where's your coat?' seemed like the easiest question to ask as she slowly pulled back to look at his face. Jugheads red rimmed eyes darted about her floor, refusing to meet her gaze as he mumbled an excuse about leaving it at school. 'Lets get you warm Jug, then you can tell me what this is all about'


	4. Jughead

Jughead felt like a small child as he let Betty take his wrist and guide him over to her bed. He doesn't fight her as she stoops to help him out of his shoes and socks, and lifts his arms obediently as she struggles to pull the clingy t-shirt from his body. 

They both seem to realize themselves as Betty hesitates over the top button on his jeans. Despite his own misery, Jughead inexplicably notices how close Bettys body is to his naked chest. He inhales sharply as his line of sight takes in Betty's bare legs and her own soiled tank top, now clingy and slightly transparent from their watery embrace. He can clearly see the outline of her hardend nipples and pert breasts, feeling the resulting heat travel from his face down dangerously close to where Betty's fingers fidgits with his pants.

'I don't think I have any clothes that would fit you and you can't wear your wet jeans in my bed' she reasons more to herself then him. Her eyes meeting Jugs, with a pleading and slightly panicked look to them. Jughead, far too cold and emotionally spent to think of a sane solution besides striping in front of his female friend/ his life-time crush, he eventually takes over for her; pulling his jeans off and kicking them to the side.


	5. Betty

'Lay down, Jug' Betty instructs, as she lifts her bed covers and allows Jughead to slowly slide in. She notices his beanie has still managed to stay on as he scoots in and catches it with her two fingers before his head can hit the pillow. 

Jughead doesn't seem to notice, or care, tripping several warning bell in Betty's head. She carefully lays his beanie down on her night stand and turns to her dresser to find a new top. 

She is suddenly all too painfully aware of just how undressed she is really is in front of him. The most undressed she's been in front of anyone,ever, for that matter. She feels around blindly and snatches the first top she finds, turning her back to Jug she strips her own shirt. She tugs on her new one only to realize it's no better than the first. A sheer, pink, crop top Veronica had convinced her to buy, one she knew she'd never wear.

Given the late hour and the persistent chattering of her teeth, Betty ignores the heat in her cheeks and quickly turns and borrows under her covers as well. 

It doesn't take long for her to realize the fault in her plans as Jughead is mere inches away in her little twin bed. Her shoulder brushs his as she secures the comforter over her chest and turns to face him. Both their teeth have ceased to chatter and in the lingering silence, a heaviness hangs in the air.


	6. Jughead

Jug nearly chokes as he watches Betty turn around and quickly disappear under the blankets next to him. Not quick enough though that he doesn't catch a glimpse of her toned stomach and feminine curves. He feels her heat immediately and can’t help but think, in another life, another night, if he wasn’t exhausted and literally homeless; this would be a dream come true. 

And then she whispers, 'Tell me what happened, Juggie. You can trust me'


	7. Betty

Betty feels the sweet warmth of Jughead's breath frame her face as he sighs in defeat. And then he starts to talk. Betty can only listen wide eyed as Jughead tells her his retched tale.

His mother had left over the summer while Betty had been away for her internship. FP, (unbeknownst to many), was a drunk and a deadbeat and Gladsy had had enough. Jellybean – still young and innocent, had been dragged along. Her face was still rounded out from childhood, she didn’t resemble her father quite yet- with his sharp jaw and piercing eyes. It was too late for Jug.


	8. Jughead

Jug had honestly thought things would be ok; that he could handle his dad. But his father’s bad habits only seemed to escalate with Glady’s absence. The straw that broke the camels back, as it were, came as a punch to the gut and a swift slap to the face. FP had never hit his wife or children before and Jug wasn’t willing to wait around and ask his father what had changed.

He had been alright up until a week before, when the drive-in had inevitably closed and Jughead made the executive decision to hide out at school until he thought of a better plan.

He had stayed at Pop’s until closing time and come back to find the school uncharacteristically locked. His jacket and other worldly possessions where held captive under the stairs along with his makeshift bed. Jug had wandered the rainy streets of Riverdale for hours, wondering what to do. It was the cold and fear of hypothermia that had lead him to the Coopers house. He had thought of knocking on Archie’s door but had noticed the ladder first. 

If he was being honest with himself, Jughead wasn’t sure he was welcome at the Andrews anymore after his and Archie’s falling out over the summer. 

One thing he was sure of, Betty Cooper never turned down a stray.


	9. Betty

' Oh, Jug' is all Betty can manage to say once Jughead comes to a close. She'd unconsciously grabbed Jug's hand in the middle of his story, and now tugs it closer to her chest and gently squeezes his fingers. Betty hopes he doesn't regretting telling her, (Jughead was never one to volunteer information about himself) and is quick to supply a plan. 

'You're staying here for as long as you need, Juggie. My parents don't need to know...you can rough it with me in my room till we figure it out.' Betty prays her voice conveys more confidence than she feels about the practicality of her temporary solution. Jughead appears oblivious to her inner turmoil and simply shakes his head. 

'Betts, you know I can't stay. If you're mom knew I was here, us both practically naked in her daughters bed, she'd murder us both!' It's meant to be a warning trapped in his own levity, but all Betty can register in this instance is how tired, and sad, and handsome?! Jughead looks with his head against her pillow. How good the weight of his warm palm feels in her tiny hands. 

'This is where you belong Jug, at least for tonight.'


	10. Jughead

Jughead fights to keep his eyelids open as a calm washes over him at Betty's reassuring words. The emotional and physical toll of the last few months had finally caught up to him. Betty, always the most maternal one of his friends, must sense his fatigue because she releases his fingers and rakes her own across his forehead and up into his unruly hair.

The gesture is so loving and pleasant, it manages to outweigh any remaining embarrassment or skepticism Jughead had felt about sharing a bed, clad only in his underwear. He lets his eyes droop closed as Betty continues to stroke his hair and Jughead whispers a soft, 'Thanks Betts'. 

He's nearly asleep when he feels Betty's hand still and the slightest press of lips to his cheek. 

The last thing he remembers as sleep pulls him under is Betty's gentle voice in his ear, 'Sweet dreams, Juggie'.


	11. Jughead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is supposed to be a fluff piece with a lil' sexual angst but it might get more smutty depending on how im feeling. Fair warning.

Warmth. That’s all Jughead is able to register as he slowly wakes. He hasn’t been so deeply warm and relaxed from head to toe in a long time; the closet under the stairs at school and the drive-in before that both cramped and drafty. 

He’d had a strangely pleasant dream. Normally Jug had a hard time remembering his dreams; all abstract ideas and blurry images, but this particular one was so obscenely pleasant that he strained to hold onto it a little while longer. It had been him and Betty, safe and happy in a place he’d never been before. Betty’s lips had danced along his own as they had laid intertwined. For a suspended moment in time, he had pressed his hardened body against her soft one while he breathed in her tantalizing scent. He had felt like he was home.

‘Mmmmm’ Jughead murmured aloud as he shifted and pulled Betty closer. 

Something, however, nagged at the back of Jughead’s brain; this picture wasn’t quite right. Did him and Betty normally do this? Yes, he’d day dreamed about this kind of moment before but why did it feel so real? 

With a sudden surge of adrenaline, Jughead’s eyes flew open and his heart began to pound erratically as he took in his surroundings and details of the night before came flooding back. Jughead was in fact with Betty, in a place he’d never been before last night; her very pink bedroom, and her very pink bed. 

Bettys chest moved up and down slowly, signalling she had not yet awakened. Jughead could only thank the angels above for this small mercy as another part of his dream had been true. He was firmly pressed up against the very real girl of his dreams, Betty Cooper. 

They both must have rolled and shifted throughout the night, as Betty now faced away from him and was on her side. Jug was effectively spooning his rescuer. His nose buried in her hair at the base of her neck, his bare chest and torso flush to her smooth back. He had flung one arm under the pillow they both shared and Jug was momentarily confused as to where his other hand had disappeared too until he felt Betty’s arm twitch. His hand was trapped under the hem of her shirt and held in place by her own arm. Jug swallows hard, his tongue feeling thick in his mouth just thinking about how few centimeters his fingers where from her sensual curves. If Jug dared, his thumb could easily reach out and stroke the swell of the underside of her breast. 

Jughead's sleeping body must have gathered all this information before his brain did as he is feeling much more thick in other regions than normal as well. Its Jughead’s own kind of personal hell as he peaks under the covers to find his appendage pressed tightly into the cleft of Betty's ass, his morning wood hard and pulsing. Her thin “pajamas” do little to stop the intrusion.

‘This isn’t how you repay your friend for letting you crash at their place…’ Jughead thinks exasperatedly to himself. Jug wonders how he’s going to remove himself from Betty without waking her right before hearing Betty sign and unexpectedly grind her hips back further into him.


	12. Betty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figured you guys needed a little back story, so this chapters a little longer than my other ones.

Betty's dreams had not been totally unpleasant either. She had had a rare dream starring the two leading men in her life: Archie and Jughead. Her two best guy friends had always seemed to feature in Betty's waking life and it only made sense they would carry over into her sleep.

Archie was her beam of ill-informed sunshine and Jughead her sardonic, burger-eater. Archie had been Betty’s long-time childhood crush but as freshman year of high school had progressed, Betty found herself less and less enchanted with the ginger boy. Though Archie was sweet, he was often lost in his own unassuming thoughts and didn’t seem to catch even the simplest of sarcastic commentary Jughead threw his way from time to time. Boys like Archie, albeit a little less sweet and loyal, came in spades in the form of Reggie and Chuck. As Kevin had so aptly pointed out to her, Archie was all ‘bod and no brains.’ 

Betty craved something more. She wanted real, deep, intelligent conversations; passion, maybe a hint of danger and mystery too. It was over her summer internship that Betty fully realized this about herself. The occasional texts from Archie had been sweet but boring. Betty, rarely at a lose for the right thing to say, struggled to start any meaningful conversation with him.

It surprised Betty to no end when Jughead, intelligent but decidedly broody, had peaked her interest. He had been over at Archie’s the day she left for her internship and astounded Betty and possibly himself by offering her a hug goodbye. She had hesitated for just a moment before she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and teasingly said, ‘I’m gunna miss you guys this summer, Jug. Don’t be too lonely without me.’ Jughead didn’t laugh as she had anticipated and instead held her closer and whispered a quote by Toni Morrison in her ear; “Yes, but my lonely is mine. Now your lonely is somebody else’s.’ 

Betty had gotten into her parent’s station wagon in a mini daze. When had Jughead become so poetic and SENSUAL? Was that the right word? Had he been flirting with her? Betty had no idea. Jughead had never seemed to be swayed or taken notice of the blossoming bodies and faces of the girls in their grade like Archie. He was almost entirely indifferent to the female species as a whole with the exception of herself, which Betty attributed to their childhood friendship and nothing more.   
For the first few weeks of the summer, Jughead and Betty had kept a steady stream of text messages between them. She would tell him all about the things she did and saw in her internship and Jug in return would keep her informed about quiet little Riverdale. He didn’t talk much about himself but always included impertinent commentary about the citizens of the town and even sent her a few excerpts from his novel. 

Betty had been sad and a little paranoid that she had been misreading their interactions when Jughead abruptly stopped replying to her texts mid-summer. The last of their conversations had come after Betty had been feeling especially homesick for her friend, (and if she was being honest, had wanted to test the waters of their friendship- which had been feeling awfully flirtatious as of late) and sent him ‘I miss you Juggie’ followed by a heart emojie. Jughead had replied ‘I miss you too Betts’ but ignored her ‘good morning’ text to him the following day. He didn’t reply till later that night, simply saying, ‘Sorry, things are a little hectic here at home right now’ and that had been the last message he had sent. 

Upon Betty’s return, she had tried everything to track Jughead down. She had asked Archie when her calls and texts went unanswered and he had given a sheepish and slightly guilty look and claimed he hadn’t talked to Jughead in a while either. Betty didn’t see Jug until school resumed and nearly jumped down his throat in the middle of the school hallway for ignoring her. Betty had blushed bright red when he explained he didn’t have the money to pay his phone bill and after it had been disconnected, had ditched the thing all together.

There friendship hadn’t quite resumed as Betty had assumed it would after that. Jughead was more broody and silent then normal. He and Archie avoided one another and without a phone, Betty’s only chance to talk to Jug was in their AP English class and whenever she was able to track him down at lunch.   
Jughead’s appearance in her window had been a very unexpected but not totally unwelcome surprise. Perhaps it was his re-emergence into her life and invading her bedroom that promoted him to invade her dreams as well. 

They had been sitting at Pop’s, side by side, drinking milkshakes and laughing at Archie who sat across from then. Betty had felt the warmth of Jughead’s thigh next to hers and had leaned into his touch when he casually slung his arm along the back of their seats. He had pulled her close and called her his ‘fair princess’.   
Betty’s scoots her hips back further in their booth and pulls Jughead’s arm’s tighter around herself, happy and content.


	13. Jughead

Jughead nearly passes out from shock and pleasure when Betty moves in her sleep to press their bodies even closer together. He feels her tighten her tiny hand around his forearm and drag it closer to her, landing his palm almost directly over her bare breast. 

If Jug thought he was having a good dream before, he definitely was now. His dick involuntarily twitches in his boxers as his fingertips just graze her nipple, her flesh hard and inviting. 

His baser, hormone-infused teenage brain wonders what it’d be like to fully touch her; feel the full weight of her warm and swollen tits in his palm. What he wouldn’t give to pinch and squeeze her rosy nipples, lave over them with his tongue. Suck them into his waiting mouth and….

The rational side of his brain suddenly takes over; YOU PERVERT, she’s not even awake!! and if she was, who says Betty Cooper wants you to do things like that to her, you creepy weirdo. MOVE YOUR HAND NOW BEFORE SHE WAKES UP!

Before Jughead can do anything, a whole new set of concerns appear in the form of Betty’s mother (Alice the-dragon-lady Cooper), shouting from downstairs, “Elizabeth, are you up yet?!” 

At the sound of her mother’s voice, Betty’s eyes snap open and she jerks upright in bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say I really and truly enjoy all of your comments! I might not respond but just know that they make my day.


	14. Betty

Betty only allows herself a nanosecond to enjoy the firm object pressed into her bottom and the warm hand on her breast before launching herself up; her fear and adrenaline an instinctual reaction to the sound of her mother’s voice. 

‘Jug, you need to hide, NOW!’ Betty hisses as she whirls around to face him.

Jughead's face looks pale and utterly horrified as he realizes what Betty has already anticipated-- the fact that her mother’s footsteps can be heard faintly coming up the stairs. 

‘Oh shit’ he breathes.


	15. Jughead

Jughead clambers to a sitting position as well and looks around wildly, unsure of what to do. His eyes nearly pop out of his head when he spy’s his clothes and shoes from the night before littering the ground by Betty’s bed. Betty must have seen it too as she scrambles to lean over and shove his soggy possessions roughly under it. 

Jug can hear Alice’s voice in the upstairs hallway coming steadily closer, ‘Betty dear, time to get up, you don’t want to be late for school.'

Not enough room under the bed and not enough time to jump in her closet -- Jughead flounders, panicked and frozen in place. Betty’s eyes are blown wide and before Jug knows what’s happening, Betty shoves him down under the covers and throws her body on top of his. 

Not even a second later, Betty’s door cracks open and Alice peers in.


	16. Betty

Betty holds her breath and silently prays that Alice won’t notice her daughter has miraculously grown an extra foot taller under her feather duvet. Betty’s face is thrown into her pillow, both hands coming up underneath as she lays on her stomach, right over Jughead. She’d be utterly embarrassed and horrified that Jug's face is buried between her boobs if it wasn’t for the more horrifying reality of her mother catching Betty with a boy in her bed.

Betty pretends to blurrily open her eyes and mumbles into her pillow, ‘Just getting up now, mom.’ It is in that same instance that Betty notices out the corner of her eye Jughead’s grey beanie, still sitting on her nightstand. ‘Please don’t notice, please don’t notice, please don't notice!’ Betty internally screams.

Alice must be having an off day as she suspects nothing. Seeming satisfied with Betty’s response, she turns and shuts the door behind her. 

It’s not until the click of Alice's heels dissipate back down the stairs that Betty can breathe again.

She exhales loudly, and promptly rolls off of a gasping Jug.


	17. Betty

‘That was too close’ is Betty’s breathy response as she turns and really sees Jughead for the first time that morning. 

Betty's first impulse is to laugh at Jug’s exaggerated breathing and wild inky-hair, sticking up at odd angles. She stops short when it dawns on her that this is the first time in the daylight that she’s seen him without his trademark beanie. 

Its nice, she thinks to herself. Jughead looks somehow older and younger all at once. His sleep ruffled appearance and tired eyes calling back to Betty’s early memories of Jughead in middle school; perpetually yawning and wearing his pajama shirt when he'd showed up just in time for the morning bell. 

Without the hat though, Jughead looks much older than 16; his jaw chiseled, his shoulders broad. It causes Betty to pause as her eyes go to his slightly chapped lips, his bare chest and further down his body. He’s not as skinny as she remembers; Jughead always looked a bit like a puppy to her, all long-limbed and big pawed but clearly that isn’t the case anymore. He’s not obviously build like Archie or even Kevin, but he does have definition and taught lean muscles hidden under all those loose flannels and layers. 

Betty's curious eyes are drawn further south to the smattering of dark hair beginning at his navel. She follows its path until it leads down into his dark blue boxers; which at this precise moment appear to be slightly tented. Betty blushes furiously and drags her eyes back up to Jug’s face-- which almost looks pained from his obvious embarrassment from her noticing. That is, until she glances down at herself and thinks the red creeping up Jug’s face is possibly from her own appearance as well. 

The sheer crop top she had regrettably thrown on the night before is now on full display. She knows for a fact that Jughead Jones has essentially seen her naked, if his face being pushed into certain areas of her body earlier wasn’t enough. She glances up from herself to catch Jughead’s eyes doing their own assessment, going from her mouth, to chest, and then her mouth again. 

Suddenly the bed feels uncomfortably warm and heat uninvited pools between Betty’s legs.


	18. Jughead

Jughead is frankly kind of shocked when he notices Betty’s gaze has distractedly dropped from his face to the rest of his body. Jug know's he's no casanova but can't help the slight boost to his ego he feels that Betty could be bothered to look. He's had a life of being compared to Archie by most, and knows he usually comes up painfully short. But Betty's eyes are large and curious and give him a reason to hope. 

His breathing is becoming more ragged and uneven, although its no longer from their earlier fright. His heart beat picks up as his traitorous body continues to pump blood down into his neither regions; which he’s almost certain Betty notices. Betty’s proximity and her body on full display is doing little to help the situation.

He feels his face heat when he meets Betty’s eyes for a split second but can’t stop himself from doing his own silent appraisal of her for the second time that morning. The difference now being that he can see more than feel all that makes up, beautiful, Betty Cooper.

He takes in her sleep ruffled hair and her pouty bottom lip trapped between her front teeth, while her long eyelashes flutter as she glances down. His eyes rake down the rest of her body. Her trim collar bone and her tits, my gosh! He can see her breasts heaving with every intake of breath. Her stomach is toned and creamy and her pink underwear, which he just now notices have some kind of lace pattern, hug her sinful hips. 

He works his way back up to her mouth, now slightly parted, her breathing laboured as well. 

It is decidedly one the of bravest or stupidest moments in all of Jughead's young life when he meets Betty’s eyes, and morning breathe be damned, pulls her mouth to his.


	19. Betty

Betty had always wondered what her first real kiss would be like. At 16, she was loath to admit that she fit into the category of ‘late bloomer’ by the standards of her fellow classmates. 

Her first kiss ever, had been courtesy of Dilton Doiley during their 8th grade graduation party. It had been an awful game of spin the bottle and he had pecked her on the lips and run away blushing before she even realized what was happening. Betty had imagined that high school would bring ample opportunity to try it out again. Perhaps with Archie at the spring dance, but no such luck. 

So here Betty was now, totally unprepared for her first real kiss to be from none other than the broody, seemingly hormone- immune, Jughead Jones. And this kiss was nothing like her first. 

Jughead’s long fingers firmly cup her jaw and cheeks, angling her head just slightly to the side. His lips weren’t pouty, but definitely full, as they entrap her bottom lip between his own and linger for awhile. 

Betty loves the warmth and gentle pressure of his lips and can plainly taste the faint sourness of his breathe. It's extremely pleasant in a strange, familiar, sort of way. She undoubtedly must taste about the same, yet he chose to kiss her sans teeth brushing, like something a married couple might do. 

It’s this insanely-domestic and intimate thought that makes Betty feel inexplicably shy and pull away all at once. 

Her eyes open slowly and a frown forms on her face when she takes in Jughead’s expression as his own panic seems to instantly set in.


	20. Jughead

‘You’re a damn fool’ is all Jughead can think as he feels Betty suddenly pull away. 

Of course, she didn’t want him. 

Jughead can only hang his head, not daring to meet Betty’s eyes as his mind begins to spiral out of control in shame and self-loathing.

He most definitely had read the signs wrong. Perhaps it had been his own feelings projected, and the sexual fog that had clouded his brain since waking up to her in his arms that made him think his rash decision to kiss Betty would have ended any differently. She hadn’t been flirting with him when she invited him into her bed, merely taking pity on a childhood friend, down on his luck. It must have been simple curiosity and their close proximity, not mutual lust that had promoted her eyes to roam his body. Betty couldn’t possibly be interested in a guy like Jug; the kid whose own parents couldn’t seem to love him enough to want him around. 

Why had he thought Betty Cooper would feel any differently? ....Because he had wanted to believe it was so.

Because Betty Cooper was good, and nice, and sweet, and warm; and everything in this world that Jughead so desperately craved. 

Betty was always nice; that’s why she had waited a second, unmoving through the kiss before she had hastily pulled away, he thinks. That’s why he’s sure, if he looks up from his hands in his lap, Betty will have pity in her eyes and offer him some clichéd phrase, like ‘I like our friendship the way it is’. Something meant to sooth his bruised ego while assuring that his new advances were not welcome.

Jughead finds the voice in his head has morphed into Archie, teasing but serious; like how he'd condemned Jughead in the past about his unconscious ability to repel girls, saying, ‘You literally cried in front of her like 12 hours ago and all but told her your homeless; that really impresses the women, Jug. Are you that surprised she doesn't want you, dude?’ 

It's with this last bitter thought that Jug shakes himself from is own despair. 

Jug realizes during his dark musing that Betty had remained completely silent; if that wasn't all the confirmation he needed, it was now time to go.


	21. Betty

Betty realizes just a second too late that Jughead must have misread her shy response. Now mumbled apologies tumble out of his mouth for the second time since he’d climbed through her window.

‘Im so sorry Betty, that wasn’t supposed to happen. It won’t happen again, I swear. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ll get my stuff and leave right now.’ Jughead staunchly refuses to meet her gaze as he shifts past her to get off the bed. He swiftly fishes his jeans out from underneath and tugs them on roughly, but not before first grabbing his beanie and securing it tightly to his head. 

He’s nearly fully dressed when Betty seems to come to her senses and jumps out of bed.

‘Jug, wait! Just stop for a minute’ Betty manages to say, her mind a swirling mess of emotions and unbridled thoughts. She had been unprepared for the kiss and Jughead’s hasty response to leave. She hadn’t gotten the chance to tell him she liked it; that she wanted him to try it again; give herself time to enjoy the butterflies in her stomach and press her lips back in answer to him. It is in the quiet moment following her retreat that she realizes with such strong conviction, it made total sense... that she 'liked' Jughead!

‘Juggie, please, look at me’ Betty whispers desperately as Jughead finishes shoving his shoes on his feet, already halfway to her window in a hasty retreat.

Jughead pauses but refuses to turn around. Betty comes up behind him and uses his arm to pivot his body towards her. He’s eye are everywhere but on her, his cheeks flushed, his brows deeply creased. Betty can’t help the hand that reaches up to smooth them out. It migrates to his cheek, soft and feather light as Jug seems to unconsciously lean into it and close his eyes. 

“Betts, im really sorry...” he begins to say again, but Betty stops him with the pad of her thumb on his lower lip. 

‘Juggie, im not mad… I..I liked it, the kiss… why don’t you stay for breakfast’


	22. Jughead

Jughead wasn’t sure what kind of magical spell Betty had cast over him, but 20 minutes later he found himself downstairs in her kitchen, eating blueberry pancakes under the watchful eye of Alice Cooper. 

He had climbed down Betty’s window the same way he had come and was forced to loiter in her yard until Betty could change and casually mention that Jug had been invited to breakfast. After waiting what he assumed to be the correct amount of time, he went up to the front door but was unable to knock as Alice was already swinging the door open and blocking his way.

He felt extremely self-conscious standing in front of her, as her eyes trailed his form and her straight-mouthed face morphed slowly into a scowl.  
His clothing had dried from his walk in the rain but were now wrinkled beyond repair after laying in a damp heap on the floor for hours. He hadn’t had the luxury of a shower or even a comb that morning and could only assume his hair looked wild, his beanie doing a poor job of fully containing his locks on a good day. If that wasn’t enough, even Jughead could admit it seemed insanely suspicious to come over to ‘have breakfast and walk Betty to school’ and yet he had no backpack or coat; something that any normal high schooler would be carrying. 

Alice’s scowl only seems to deepen the longer she stood there looking at him. Did she know he had been over already? Was it just his presence in general that upset her? If she had been an 18th century doorman, Jug was sure Alice would have already grabbed him by the collar and deposited him around back in the trash bins where he evidently belonged.

It was Betty who came to the rescue again; she appeared in her signature pony tail and cardigan sweater, smiling warmly at Jughead as if this was something that happened on the regular, and pulled him inside past her mother. 

Now as Jughead sat at the table with the two pristine Cooper women-taking their miniscule bits of fruit and pancake, he had to remind himself not to eat like a rabid animal. His last meal had been a cheese burger the previous night, compliments of Pop Tate. It had been his first and only meal that day, and though Jug was beginning to get good at ignoring hunger pains, it was harder to fight basic instincts that told him to gorge himself when food was present, as there was no guarantee when he’d see it again.

All this is at the forefront of Jughead’s mind while the back corner has his kiss and subsequent conversation with Betty on a continuous loop; analyzing, re-evaluating, trying to read meaning into what she had said and done. She had liked the kiss… Then why did she pull away? What did this mean for him? For them? Did Betty like him as much and for as long as he had been lovesick over her? Would Betty let him kiss her again was an even better question.

Jug is on his 5th pancake and 18th mental rerun when Betty nudges him under the table with her foot and announces to her mother they had better leave before they were late for school. 

Jughead knows its still early but is more than happy to comply. He mumbles a thank you to Alice for breakfast and nervously waits in the hallway for Betty to grab her bag so they can go. Jug's worries and anxieties seem to melt away however once they step off her front porch as Betty, ever so casually, loops her arm through his and they begin their trek to school.


	23. Betty

Betty noticed that a light drizzle had begun to fall again as the pair made it to the end of her driveway. She stopped to pull out her umbrella and looked at Jughead dumbly when he stood awkwardly next to her and didn’t make a move to rejoin her. 

‘Come on Juggie, your clothes won’t survive another rain shower,’ she attempted to tease. Her joke had sounded a bit stiff and forced even in her own ears but to Jughead's credit, he didn’t comment. Instead, a slight flush climbed up his cheeks as he bent his head to duck under the umbrella. He offered his hand and their fingers brushed ever so slightly as he took the umbrella from her. Betty in turn resumed her stance next to him, tucking her hand securely into the crook of his elbow. 

Betty felt a kind of nervous fluttering in her chest as they continued to school in silence. She didn’t quite know how to brooch the subject of the kiss or any other revolution she’d experienced about her feelings for Jug. Not to mention they had yet to have a follow up conversation about what to do, long term, about Jughead's living situation. Jughead seemed quiet as well, though the few times Betty had looked up at his face, a half-quirked smile had formed on his lips, assuring her that his silence was not sullen. 

Betty shifted closer still to Jug as a sudden breeze fit them. She was chilled even with her coat and couldn’t fathom how Jughead could walk so casually in just his t-shirt. She could feel the goosebumps rising on his arm where she clutched him, but he didn’t complain or quicken his pace at all. Betty, feeling brave and using the inclement weather as an excuse, let go of Jug’s arm to grab the hand closest to her. Jug maintained his poker face but adjusted quickly, holding the umbrella in his other hand and intertwining his fingers with hers more tightly. Betty curled her other arm up around his and pulled herself even closer. She leaned into his shoulder and willed her body heat onto Jug. 

As Riverdale High came into view, Betty intensely wished their walk had lasted a little longer. She still hadn’t said anything and dreaded the idea of them parting ways for the rest of the day without talking about what had happened. Betty was worried Jughead might slip away from her like he had in the summer. She wanted to see where and how he had been living the past week in the school but didn’t want to cause him more embarrassment than he probably felt. 

Jughead is the one to break their silence as they come to the front doors, and he delicately detaches himself from Betty’s grip and hands her umbrella back. “I’ll meet you at your locker after school, okay” 

With a slight head nod and a half smile, Jughead disappears down the crowned hallways of school without giving Betty a chance to respond.


	24. Jughead

Jughead is loath to part with Betty as they reached their intended destination. He was immensely enjoying her tiny hand clutched tightly in his; her close proximity like a soothing balm to his soul. Ever time a gust of wind would hit them he could smell whatever hair products Betty used to style her signature pony tail; it was a lovely mixture of coconut and something else- fruity and feminine and incredibly ‘Betty’.

He is the one to break contact first, however. As Betty stares up at him wide-eyed, it takes everything in his power not to lean down and press his lips to hers. He offers an awkward nod and a promise that he will see her at the end of the day instead. 

He doesn’t quite trust himself to be around her here; not with the prying eyes of the student-body and the unwritten social pyramid that governed the school. Guys like Jughead Jones simply didn’t belong with girls like Betty Cooper. He had no right to claim her. Jughead knew this. It was one of the reasons he had kept his feelings for Betty a secret for so long. Guys like Archie Andrews got the beautiful, sweet, girl-next-door, not Jug.

Despite all this, Jughead feels a certain spring in his step as he makes his way to first period. Having food in his belly definitely helped, and so did the fact that a certain blonde would be waiting for him at the end of the day.

All through class, Jug has to force himself to keep his mind on the teacher and not the memory of Betty Cooper’s soft body in his arms or the feel of her pouty lips, as fleeting as it had been. At some point he lefts out an audible sigh and is rewarded with a snide comment from none other than Cheryl Blossom.

“What’s wrong welfare baby? Sad Mommy didn’t iron your plaids today for you? Is that why your looking more hobo-ish then normal?”

Jughead rolls his eyes and ignores the barb but makes a mental note to skip his last class so he’d have time to shower and change in the boy’s locker room before it became overrun by jocks for their after-school practice. It’d also give him time to pack up his room under the stairs. As much has he admired Betty for her loyalty and unjudgmental attitude about everything he’d confessed to her already, he still wasn’t sure he could take the look of sadness that would undoubtedly cross Betty's pretty features at the site of his make-shift home.

Growing up in a trailer park, even Jug could admit his closet was a sad, sad thing to behold; not quite long enough to stretch out in, ceilings slanted, spiderwebs abundant, his single sleeping bag he had pilfered from an abandoned shed next to his family’s trailer covered the hard cement floor. It was a far cry from the solid 4 walls of a trailer and the pullout couch he had shared with his sister for the last decade of his life. 

Both of these sleeping arrangements, (though one was a vast improvement over the other) he knew, Betty would have never imagined for him. She came from another world of middle class income and parents who could afford a mortgage and separate beds for their growing children. Jughead was not resentful, he just didn’t expect her to understand, didn’t want her to think that this was all Jughead was; abandoned, neglected, not worth the money and energy to love.

No, Jughead was not ready to give up that scrap of his dignity just yet. He didn’t want Betty to see his sad attempt at creating a home. 

 

By the time the final bell rang, Jughead was freshly showered and posted up against Betty’s locker. At his feet sat his backpack, containing all worldly possessions, which objectively, was a pathetically small amount. His laptop, Sherpa jacket, some t-shirts, a second pair of jeans, a week’s supply of underwear and some toiletries, just barely filled his bag. 

He had packed in a hurry when he left home and had only time to grab the essentials and one item of significance to him; an old, folded photograph of him and Jellybean. In retrospect, Jug was glad he hadn’t had more to bring, it would have been much more difficult to hide his homelessness if he had to cart around a suit case or two wherever he went. 

Betty greeted him with a big smile and a peppy ‘Hi, Juggie’ before she began to gather her books from her locker and place them neatly in her bag. When she straightened up and asked if Jug wanted to go get his stuff before they headed out, her eyes clouded with confusion and another emotion he couldn’t decipher when he hoisted his own bag over his shoulder and said he was all set to go. Betty’s eyes strayed to his medium sized backpack and looked at it disbelievingly for a moment before her eyes turned back to his, silently asking the questions she didn't dare speak aloud, 'This is all you have?'


	25. Betty

Betty grabs Jughead by the hand and all but hauls him out of the school and down the steps. Her feet are quick and heavy on the pavement, her flats making a loud smacking sound as they go. Her pony tail jerks with every step and her eyes are laser focused on the far-off objective of her home. 

Jughead is lead dutifully behind her, his brows furrowed, for about 30 meters before Betty feels him dig the heels of his own shoes into the concrete causing her to falter.

‘Betty..? Betty, wait. Stop! What’s wrong?’ 

‘It’s nothing Jug, lets go’ Betty denies, trying to get him to move again. She can feel the tears welling in her eyes and doesn’t want Jughead to see them or hear the lump in her throat. ‘Come on Jug’ she tries again, yanking on his arm once more. 

He is much stronger than he looks. Jug doesn’t budge an inch for all of Betty’s best efforts. Instead her own arm is meet with a sharp yank, swinging her around to face him. 

‘Betty, are you crying? What’s wrong, did something happen at school? Was it something I said?’ Jughead questions as panic and confusion cloud his face.

Betty feels the tears swimming in her eyes and looks up at the greyish sky and inky black clouds overhead, refusing to let her stupid, traitorous tears fall. How could she have been so selfish, and clueless, and naïve… she doesn’t deserve to cry. 

‘Betts, please look at me’ Jughead pleads, his voice soft and soothing, like how one might talk to a distraught child. Betty meets his eyes, seeing them wide with worry and can’t hold back any longer. 

‘I’m so sorry, Juggie’ she cries as she threw her arms around his waist and buries her face in his chest. 

‘Betts, whatever it is, it’ll be okay’ he whispers into the top of her hair as his own arms come to wrap around her shoulders.

Betty can only shake her head ‘no’ against his shirt as her tears escape the corners of her closed eyes. She can smell whatever soap he must have used that day, though when and where he was able to take a shower during school hours, Betty couldn’t fathom. The idea that Jughead didn’t have the most basic necessities like a shower and a bed of his own cause Betty to huff and take a step back; her rage at the world overtaking her sadness. 

‘It’s not okay Jug! How could I have not noticed? How could none of us notice you were homeless? What kind of a terrible friend am I? What kind of a terrible, naïve person am I that I thought everything was okay, when clearly it isn’t. You literally have your whole life in that bag, don’t you Jug? How can the world be so cruel and unfair? You don’t deserve this, any of this… I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner. I don’t know what I imagined when you told me everything last night. I guess I wanted to believe it wasn’t that bad! And I can’t believe its been like this for weeks!! And I didn’t know, or think to ask?’ 

Betty’s tears have dried by the end of her speech and are replaced with an angry flush on her neck and cheeks. She was angry at the whole situation, and even more at herself for crying and making this about herself and her own ineptitude's when Jug was the one suffering. 

‘Hey, shh, its okay, Betts. You didn’t know ‘cause I didn’t want anyone to know… I’m okay.’ Jughead assures her, his large hands squeezing her shoulders in tandem with his words. Betty finds the simple action grounding; her anger quickly dissipating as her fingers uncurl from the tight fists she had been making. 

‘Come on Betts, lets get you home.’


	26. Jughead

Betty’s accusatory question rattled around in Jugheads brain the rest of the way to her house. ‘You have your whole life in that bag, don’t you Jug?’

Jughead had not expected this fact to prompt the righteous anger of Betty Cooper. He had seen her sad expression and felt her gentle touch the previous night after confessing his tragic story. He hadn’t expected her to cry at the sight of his backpack today. Though Jughead would never admit it, as much as he hated to see Betty upset, the idea that she so truly and deeply cared warmed his insides and gave Jug hope for the future. 

As they came upon Betty’s home, they were both relieved to find that no cars were parked in the drive way. Jughead wouldn’t have to climb any ladders today. 

Betty unlocked her door and lead them up to her bedroom where her mother had taped a note to her door. Her parents would be working late at the register that night and had left pizza money for her on the kitchen counter. 

Betty flew into action, ordering up a large pizza with extra cheese and pepperoni (Jughead’s favourite) before she began to organize Jughead’s indefinite presence in her life and bedroom. 

First, she cleared out a bottom dresser drawer for Jug to put his things; one she claimed her mother never bothered to look in as it had her off-season summer clothes in it. She did the same clearing out a drawer in her en-suite bathroom and was about to offer Jug some hanger space in her closet when Jughead gave her a skeptical look and joked ‘Do I really look like the kind of guy who hangs my jeans, Betts?’ 

It was as Jughead pulled his rumpled clothes from the night before out of his bag and began stuffing them into his newly appointed drawer that Betty stopped him and insisted that they do some laundry. Jug was a little embarrassed at the idea of Betty handling his dirty underwear but couldn’t have been more appreciative; his system of hand-washing his boxers and shirts in the bathroom sink at school was far from perfected. It had been a month since he had been able to wash his jeans and he knew it was only a matter of time before the frebreeze he swiped from the teachers lounge stopped being effective. 

His clothes were in the dryer by the time pizza arrived. Betty grabbed plates and cans of pop and they settled onto her bed to watch Netflix on his laptop.   
Jughead couldn’t remember the last time he had been so at ease and relaxed. Betty’s surplus of decorative pillows cradling his head as the movie played, Betty’s side pressed up against his. He let a contended sigh escape his lips as he finished his food and let his head sink further down. 

To his pleasure and surprise, Betty grabbed his arm and looped it over her shoulders and cuddled closer. Her head leaned on his chest and as she tipped it up to look at him, a shy smile spread across both their faces. 

'Yes' thought Jug, 'everything would be alright.'


	27. Betty

The end credits of their movie have just begun to play when Betty’s eyes flutter open. She shifts from her spot on Jughead’s chest to see that he is still peacefully slumbering. Betty notes the dark circles under his eyes and decides not to wake him as she cleans up their pizza mess and heads downstairs to collect Jug’s laundry.

A strange wave of nervous energy hits Betty as she pulls Jughead’s clothes from the dryer, one by one, and folds them into a neat pile. Betty can’t seem to shake the feeling that she’s snooping; that at any moment Jughead would catch her red-handed, elbow deep in his underwear. The rational side of Betty’s brain knows she isn’t doing anything wrong and she tries not to think about what body parts are normally covered by the assortment of dark-coloured boxers that she folds.

Coming to the end, Betty realizes Jug has no pajamas in his possession, not even a pair of sweats. Did he normally sleep in just his underwear? Was he one of those weird people who slept naked? This thought causes Betty’s whole body to flush and a scarlet blush to burn her cheeks. She hastily grabs his pile of clean laundry and jogs up the two flights of stairs in an attempt to leave her off-colour thoughts behind.

In her room she finds Jughead right where she left him. His limbs sprawled out across her bed, his head sunken between 2 pillows, soft snores escaping his lips. Betty can’t help the smile that bubbles up on her face. It stay’s there as she puts his clothes away and hides his backpack and shoes in her closet for safekeeping, right until she hears the low hum of her parent’s station-wagon roll into the driveway. 

Betty gently shakes Jughead’s shoulder, ‘Jug my parents are home, you gotta disappear for a bit until after they come say goodnight.’  
Jughead moans and stretches like a cat before her words sink in and he slowly rolls out of bed, sleepily looking to Betty for direction.

‘You can hide in my bathroom until the coast is clear.’

Jughead follows orders and disappears behind the door while Betty starts to get ready for bed.

She is much more conscious of her pj choice tonight, knowing ahead of time she’ll be sharing a bed with Jug. She selects a simple blue, cotton t-shirt and fleecy pajama bottoms patterned with clouds and little stars. Betty’s just finishes removing her makeup and pulling out her pony tail when her mother taps on her door and peers inside. 

‘We’re home Betty dear, I hope you did your homework and went for a run after you ate that whole pizza by yourself.’ 

‘Yes mom, of course’ Betty fibs. What her mother didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, which is also why Betty is able to ignore the barb about her eating a whole pizza. Not that she could very well tell her mother that Jughead had eaten about 90% of it. 

‘Your father and I will be off to work early tomorrow morning as well, so you’ll have to make breakfast for yourself. Remember no carbs and lots of protein and fresh fruits Elizabeth.’

‘Yes mom, goodnight’ Betty struggles to maintain a neutral expression through her annoyance at her mothers condescending comments. She is overjoyed when her mother finally bids her goodnight and shuts the door. 

Betty waits a beat then goes to her bathroom and finds Jughead standing in just his boxers and t-shirt, sans beanie, examining his face in the mirror. 

‘Oh sorry, I should have knocked’ Betty rushes to say, her face going pink at his lack of pants. 

‘Wouldn’t that be a little hard to explain to your parents?’ Jughead smirked, ‘I was just getting ready for bed, I hope you don’t mind. I can sleep in my jeans if it’d be less weird for you.’

‘No, no its fine, I want you to be comfortable’ Betty chokes out, still feeling shy and uncomfortable given her own thoughts earlier on the subject. 

 

Betty and Jughead quickly come up with a system as not to alert her parents of her special house guest. They would brush their teeth in tandem and if in the morning Jug wanted a shower he’d leave the water running after he was done so Betty could sneak in after him and her parents would never be the wiser to an extra 10 mins of used water pressure.

Jug would have to climb out her window on mornings her parents were home, which luckily happened less and less often these days. She’d either casually invite him over for breakfast for bring him something he could eat on their way to school. 

Everything seemed like it would work out just fine. The only hiccup in their plan came after they had both brushed their teeth and went to climb into Betty’s twin bed.  
This time, both were hyper aware of the other. Jug, not in the midst of a crisis and Betty not half asleep. 

Both laid in deafening silence, neither one moving for fear of disturbing the others’ possible sleep. Betty stared at the ceiling, debating if she should say something. Maybe apologize for her outburst earlier. Offer Jug a hug goodnight to break some of the tension? 

Jug saves her the decision when he abruptly shifts onto his side to face her. Betty watches as the light from her window reflects across his white teeth and dark irises. Jughead whispers so as not to awake her parents, ‘Thanks for everything Betts, I don’t know what I would have done without you.’ 

Before Betty can answer with anything besides a shy smile, Jughead leans up on his elbow and slowly, slowly, bring his face to hover over Betty’s. Betty stops breathing, wondering if Jug is about to kiss her. She closes her eyes in anticipation but doesn’t feel his lips on hers. Instead, he brushes a soft kiss high on her cheekbone and breathes a soft ‘Night Betts’ before he pulls back and flips over to face the wall. 

‘Your welcome Jug, sweet dreams’ Betty whispers back into the dark. Not long after, she hears soft snores emanating rhythmically from the boy beside her. Betty turns to face the opposite way and finds Jughead's warm calves under the blankets. She presses her cold toes to him and soon, she too, falls into a peaceful slumber.


	28. Jughead

The next few weeks fly by for Jug, feeling as if his life had taken a turn in some pleasant parallel universe. One where he wakes every morning to a beautiful blonde in his arms, gets to see her sleepy and makeup free face, watches her brush her teeth beside him while he marvels that the strange normality of it all. 

Jughead is rarely hungry now in this new world – breakfast at the Coopers is plentiful, same as the plate of leftovers Betty makes sure to reheat and smuggle upstairs for him to have as dinner. 

At lunch, Betty is insistent that Jug join their group of friends. He tolerates Veronica and Kevin, while him and Archie’s mutual silence remains regardless of Betty’s efforts to throw them into conversation together. Jughead doesn’t mind though. As long as he gets to sneak one half of Betty’s lunch and watch her chat animatedly with her friends. 

Jug likes to study the gentle sway of her pony tail and map the expanse of flesh from her neck to the collar bones that peaked out from Betty’s trademark sweaters. Her eyes and lips were his favourite to watch. They sizzle bright green and her lips were always slick with gloss, just begging to be kissed clean. 

Come bedtime, they had fallen into a lovely routine after changing into their pjs and crawling into bed. Instead of silence, they now lay facing one another, hashing out their respective days, trading secrets and witty banter. 

And each night, Jug would whisper a soft ‘Night Bets’ and place a kiss to Betty’s warm cheek. He hadn’t worked up the courage to kiss her for real since their first time. Neither had spoken of it and since Betty didn’t seem repulsed, Jug decided he would continue his nighttime habit until she said no. 

It never happened though. Each time, Betty would blush a pretty pink, apparent even in her darkening room before she whispers back ‘Sweet dreams, Juggie’.   
Both would eventually roll away from one another, knowing full well they’d end up intertwined by morning. 

Yes, Jughead was quite content with his new life.


	29. Betty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is where we might be getting a little smutty. You've been warned.

Betty could feel herself slowly going insane. It had been three weeks of Jughead co-habiting with her; three weeks since he had kissed her; three weeks of her trying to work up the nerve to make a move if Jughead refused to take the hint.

It was becoming a strange kind of torture, waking to Jughead’s firm arms and body wrapped around her, Betty powerless to do anything about it. Every few days Betty would wake to an added surprise; a firm pressure at her back or bottom in the form of Jug's morning arousal. Betty imagined if she was one of those more experienced girls like Cheryl Blossom or Veronica Lodge she might take advantage; press herself further back into him, before rolling over and planting a sultry kiss on his lips. 

Alas, Betty is not that kind of girl. Her go-to response being to lay very still and count her breaths until she felt Jughead awake and stalk quietly to the bathroom. She imagines he goes to take care of his ‘situation’ in the shower, which she hears running, only minutes later. 

School is no better. Betty is hyper aware of Jughead’s presence whenever he is around. After her revelation about her feelings for him, she had begun to notice details about the boy that she had skipped over in the past. She notices the way he walks, how his clothing hugs his frame, notices his angular face which no one could deny was handsome, though a tad broody. She has a hard time resisting the urge to reach out and cup Jug’s cheek or smooth his brow whenever she catches him deep in thought. She notices his lips too and the way they surrounded and devoured any food that might come near. Betty wishes she could get swallowed up in his mouth, have his teeth sink into her flush. If Jug is aware of her staring, he never lets on. 

After school the two would part ways and she would go home to face her parents and their stilted family dinners. After she would keep herself busy; tiding her room, doing homework, even taking a bubble bath on occasion. All the while though she would be thinking of Jug- sitting in a booth at Pops, undoubtedly typing away on his laptop. Betty would always have one ear open, waiting for the sound of Jughead's awkward footfalls on the ladder outside her window. She would watch him contort his tall frame to climb inside and greet him with a wide smile. 

When they climbed into bed at night and had tired of talking, Jughead’s kiss on the cheek would always leave Betty wanting more. Wanting something to push them out of the friend-zone they had somehow locked each other in. 

 

An opportunity presents itself quite by accident in the form of her mother, Alice Cooper, one morning as Betty is rolling out of bed, ready to trade places with Jug who would be finishing his shower any minute. Betty is startled and dashes into her bathroom as Alice Cooper bumps open the door to her bedroom with her back, a stack of fresh towels shielding her face. 

Betty curses her mothers lack of boundaries, knowing full well Alice will waltz into Betty’s bathroom any second from now and replace her supply of towels while “Betty” is in the shower, her solid black shower curtain the only semblance of privacy. 

Betty has no other choice when she notices Jug's discarded clothing on the ground but to thrust her own pajamas over his before joining Jughead in the steamy shower.

'What the---’ Jug whirls around only to have Betty’s hands claps tightly to his mouth to stop his outburst. Jughead fumbles to cover himself; the confusion and shock clear on his face. His pupils are blown wide with fear and instant realization when he hears Betty’s mom entering the bathroom.

‘Betty, I’m just leaving some fresh towels for you, don’t be too long in there’ 

‘Thanks mom, I wont’ Betty calls out, her hands still covering Jug's mouth.

Alice shuts the door a moment later and Betty meets Jughead’s eyes and slowly lowers her hands. Its far to late though, as she realizes how close her naked torso is to Jug’s. She feels a strange heat on her lower abdomen, glancing down only to discover that its Jughead’s dick, fully erect and pressing against her stomach!

Jughead seems to be in some catatonic state of shock, he eyes wide, darting between his body and hers, his chest unmoving like he’d forgotten to breath. 

For reasons beyond Betty’s mental capacity, her first response is not to pull away but to instead lift her hooded eyes to Jug, and ask in a voice foreign even to herself, ‘Can I touch it?... I’ve never seen one up close before’


	30. Jughead

Jug was utterly speechless. 

Of all the things that Jughead ever imagined coming out of the sweet- innocent mouth of Betty Cooper, her asking to touch his junk had not been one of them.

Jug couldn't recall answering, his mouth stuck in permanent gap as he raised his hands in a kind of surrender. Jug feels the cold metal of the shower facet press into his back and watches in slow motion as Betty’s small hand tentatively reaches out to grasp him. 

The relief is instant; Jug lets out a loud, shuddery breath and his hips jute out imperceptibly as Betty tests the weight of him in her hand and adjusts the strength of her grip. He knows he should feel embarrassed by it all; their mutual nakedness, Betty’s eyes, large and probing, but he can’t seem to care. The warm stream of the shower hits his shoulders soothingly while Betty’s eyes flick up to ask his silent permission before her warm hand begins to stroke him. 

He could feel time slow down and his brain begin to lag as blood pumps even more furiously down to the lower regions of his body. Betty's hand is tentative at first, but gradually begins to stroke him steadily, gauging her movements by his own reaction. 

Jug drops his head and squeezes his eyes shut as he desperately tries to think of something to delay the inevitable. He was 16 after all, and this was much farther than he'd ever gotten with a girl before, let alone the girl of his dreams. 

Jug is overwhelmed by the sensation of her hand and opens his eyes to be fully enraptured by Betty; her wet, naked, perfect, form standing in front of him, her hand bringing him closer and closer to completion. Jug watches as if from outside his own body as a stray drop from the shower-head escapes over his shoulder and onto Betty's chest. The water careens and swirls down between her breasts, into the valley of her stomach and further still to her bare pussy.

He suddenly couldn't handle it anymore, his vision swims with stars as the pressure and heat in his body builds to a peak. He tries to get his mouth to co-operate with his brain; give Betty some semblance of a warning. His efforts are all forgotten as he groans, loud and long, seconds before spirts of warm cum shoot out of him and paint stripes across Betty Coopers stomach. 

Jug gasps for breath and can't help himself when he finds his hands have migrated to Betty's hips and uses them to pull her toward him. Not caring about the mess, he pulls her flush to him and bends his head to capture Betty's lips in a wet, and somewhat sloppy, open-mouthed kiss.

Jughead swears and breaks the kiss when Betty's eager fingers try to kept going, running over his much too sensitive head, until Jug has to push her hand away. He let out a breathy laugh and hangs his forehead on Betty's shoulder for another moment, eyes closed, before he can think clearly enough to speak.

When his breathing has settled down to a semi normal pace, he manages to rasp out 'Betts, I ... wasn't expecting that but… thank you'.   
His answer is the subtle shake of Betty’s torso against his, her laugh breathy and giddy sounding in his ear.

‘Can I.. do you want me to do something for you?’ Jughead breathes, hesitant but hopeful, into Betty’s own neck.


	31. Betty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to my eager readers for taking so long to update. I was having a hard time drawing inspiration. I never intended for my fic to get this far. If anyone has any suggestions, feel free to let me know in the comments. :)

Betty felt like a woman possessed. 

Jughead was always so hidden, so layered and secretive up until now. Betty desperately wished to solve the riddle that is Jughead Jones III and feeling his hot flesh on her, them both exposed and vulnerable to one another, sent waves of heat and lust coursing through her veins. She had never felt such a rush and knew she’d never get another chance like this again. 

Betty watches as Jughead’s pupils dilate to nearly black as he struggles to nod his head and she knows then that she has him bewitched. 

 

Jug had been much bigger than she expected. Betty, in her own naïve world, always assumed a man’s genitalia mimicked their build. She expected Jughead to be long and lean like the rest of him- she wasn’t prepared for the sheer girth of him as well. He had felt so hot and heavy in her small hand. It almost made her a little frightened, the idea of something that size fitting into another human like herself. Imagining what sex would be like with Jughead Jones sends Betty’s mind to a whole other universe. 

As she began to stroke him though, all rational thought seems to fade to away. She feels powerful and entranced watching Jughead fall apart; his breathing laboured, mouth open, eyes closed, head thrown back. The almost animalistic sound he makes at the end sends a new spasm of heat straight to her core. She wants to touch herself and feel the proof of how seeing Jughead open and sated affected her. So when Jughead breathes the question against Betty’s shoulder, she is powerless to say no. 

 

She closes her eyes as she lets Jughead guide her to stand under the stream of water, his hands like a reverent prayer against her hips. Betty stands rigidly still, not breathing for fear she’ll move and scare him off. She anticipates his hands meeting her center first and is confused when they do not move from her waist. That is, until she feels his breath ghosting over her mouth. Her eyes flutter open in time to watch Jug close his own and lean fully in. His lips are gentle but insistent; plying her mouth open and letting his tongue run along her bottom lip. Betty kisses him back, her hands coming to up to tangle in his wet locks.

Jughead pulls back all too soon, but only so much as to give the rest of her body attention. His lips fall to her jaw and then her neck, sucking and tasting, as he goes. Betty can feel the heat rising to her face and nearly dies from pleasure when without warning, Jughead suddenly drops his head to suck a peaked nipple into his mouth. 

‘Ohhhh, Jugg’ are the only intelligible words that her mouth can form as Jughead runs his tongue in circles over her puckered flash. Betty lets out a small cry and tugs on Jugs hair, hard enough to hurt him when he bits down and pulls away, her nipple caught between his teeth as he flicks his eyes up to her face. Its then that she knows Jug is toying with her, making her pay for her rogue and wanton behaviour earlier. 

Jug comes back up to suck her bottom lip into his mouth and Betty finally feels a hand leave her waist, his fingertips trail down the inside seam of her pelvic bone, down further and further, nearly there, when suddenly Betty lets out a loud cry and jumps away from his hand.


	32. Jughead

Betty’s scream, in pain not pleasure, causes Jughead to nearly fall over. Intense panic rises in his chest at the idea that he might have done something wrong until he realizes the cause of Betty’s reaction; the water had suddenly turned frigidly cold. 

Alice Cooper’s shrill voice can be heard from all the way downstairs where she tells Betty to get out of the shower, NOW. Betty has already turned off the water and is delicately stepping around Jug to leave the shower while she mumbles something about her mother flushing toilets and running the dishwasher as a way to punish her. 

Their moment is ruined and Jughead is sure he’s never loathed a person more in his life than Alice Cooper. He stands in the empty shower for a minute too long as he tries to collect his muddled thoughts and figure out how to casually step out, already half hard again, and face Betty as if his world hasn’t been irrevocably changed forever.


	33. Betty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a slow burn fic so bare with me people. I promise to ramp it up again soon.   
> ps. thank you for the comments and suggestions; all noted, i shall try my best.

To say breakfast was an awkward affair was the understatement of the century. Alice, already irritated by Betty using up all the hot water, was less then gracious when Betty announced Jughead would be over for breakfast again that morning. 

‘Again, Elizabeth? What, are we opening a soup kitchen for the less fortunate now? Doesn’t FP feed that kid of his? Jughead is a nice enough boy but honestly Betty, your father and I don’t slave down at the Register so your hoodlum friends can take advantage of our hospitality...’ 

And so it went on this like for 10 minutes, right up until the minute Jughead walked through the front door. Once they were all seated there was a definite tension in the air. Alice sat silently fuming while she stared daggers at Jughead every time his fork came up to his mouth. Betty couldn’t help the permanent flush on her cheeks, not caused by her mother’s rudeness, but from the ‘explorations’ Jug and herself had been doing earlier that morning. 

Betty couldn’t help fidgeting in her chair; crossing and uncrossing her legs, trying to desperately to diminish the uncomfortable tingling between her thighs. ‘Is this what it’s like to be horny?’ Betty wondered to herself. She had never done anything close to what her and Jug had before, never even bothered touching herself, always scared her mother would somehow catch her in the act. Which in a way, Alice had indirectly done, leaving Betty pulsing and wet and no eager fingers of Jughead to help her out.

As much she squirmed, the nagging feeling simply wouldn’t go away. Perhaps because the cause of the problem was a mere 4 feet away. Betty couldn’t help herself as she stole furtive glances at Jughead's lips, and fingers, and even down to his crotch. How could she function knowing she had seen parts of Jug she's sure no other person in the world had ever seen?!!? How did it all fit in his pants? Was he feeling just as uncomfortable as her?

Decidedly not, as Jughead’s face remained neutral if not a little uncomfortable like it normally did whenever Alice was present. Betty wondered what was going through Jug's brain as he calmly wolfed down his waffles and OJ. Was he thinking about what they had done? Would he bring it up on their walk to school? It was much more than a simple kiss; surely something as monumental as messing around with your friend, naked in the shower, wasn’t something you simply ignored? Right?? 

So many questions and doubts swirled through Betty’s mind that she nearly missed when Jughead glanced up from his plate and quirked an eyebrow at her. His eyes took in her squirminess and her own unfocused eyes and the pink of her cheeks, before he cracked an impish grin and stood up abruptly, thanking Alice for breakfast and walking to the door. He stopped and turn around then, his grin now a fully-fledged smile, knowing and cocky-looking, as he waited for Betty to grab her things and join him.

Betty burned bright red and ignored her mother’s curious gaze as she shouldered her backpack and nearly ran past Jug and out the door.


	34. Jughead

‘Betty, wait up’ Jug calls as his hand reaches out to lightly tug on the back of Betty’s sweater- a somewhat childish effort to slow her down. Feeling emboldened as Betty slows her pace and their footsteps fall into synch, Jug lets his hand linger and finally rest on the small of Betty’s back. Jug notices her cheeks are still tinged pink; his uncharacteristic gesture causing Betty’s large doe eyes to curiously glance his way. 

‘So, at the risk of sounding like a fuck-boi, can I just say I really enjoyed myself this morning and… I think you did too.’ 

Betty’s averts her eyes but a shy smile creeps up her face and her cheeks darken imperceptibly as she slowly nods her head. Her confirmation gives Jughead the courage to forge ahead even as his feet stall. 

‘This is it, this is the moment’, he thinks as his brain scrambles to come up with the words he’s been repressing for half a decade. Sensing the abrupt shift in his mood, Betty comes to stand in front of him, her hand falling to his chest, her voice probing but gentle, ‘Jug?’ 

‘Look Betts, cards on the table… I like you, I have for a really long time. And after this morning, I kinda got the feeling that maybe you liked me too. And… I’d really like to keep doing what we’ve been doing… Well not just that, I mean that was pretty great and I’d love a repeat one day when your parents aren’t around. God, I’m sounding like such a pig….what I’m trying to say is… I want to be your boyfriend!’ 

It comes out in such an awkward rush, Jughead isn’t sure exactly what he’s said by the time he’s finished. It’s his turn to blush and avert his eyes as he mumbles one final part ‘…that is, if you want me?’ 

‘Want’ was a touchie subject for Jug. He wanted so many things in his life; wanted his mother to have not abandoned him in Riverdale, wanted his dad to care and love him enough to stop drinking and invite him back home, wanted to make amends with Archie after the red haired boy bailed on him over the summer-when he needed his friend the most. He wanted Betty Cooper. Full stop. But it was Jughead’s life experience that had taught him ‘want’ didn’t make things happen. 

He’s already bracing himself for rejection when he feels Betty’s delicate fingers lifting his chin, a soft smile playing on her lips as she closes the distance between them. Her mouth is warm and tastes like strawberries. Jughead can't help but melt with relief into her. 

After a beat, Betty pulls away just enough so their noses are still touching, and says the words Jughead only ever dreamed he’d hear, ‘Of course, I want you Juggie.’


	35. Betty

Betty practically skips down the hall as she makes her way to first period. Jughead Jones was her boyfriend! A permeate smile is etched on her face. The memory of Jughead by her locker, gently squeezing her waist with one hand as he nervously glances around before dropping a chaste kiss on her lips, causes butterflies to dance in her chest. 

By lunch time, Betty is nearly bursting with anxious energy from her new secret. Part of her longs to confide in Veronica or Kevin but another part has a feeling that Jug, being the private person that he is, wouldn’t want her friends asking impertinent questions quite so soon. Betty resolutely decides to let Jug take the lead on how they proceed with their relationship.

That said, when Betty is joined by her friends, she can’t help but feel a tad disappointed that Jug isn’t among them. Yes, he was usually the last to arrive but Betty had secretly hoped he’d be a little more eager to see her today; wouldn’t spend the first ten minutes of lunch sulking by the vending machine before he reluctantly sat down.

Jug, oblivious to Betty’s thoughts, shows up late as usual, giving a curt nod to the rest of the group before plopping himself down on the bench next to Betty. Betty tries to school her face and not react as she feels Jug’s side brush up against her as he leans in to steal a handful of fries from her tray. Jug meets her eyes for a split second before shoveling them into his mouth, mischief dancing across his baby blues.

From then on, Betty is oblivious to the conversations that swirl around her. All she can focus on is the heat of Jughead’s thigh pressed against her and subtle whiff of him she catches every time he leans over to steal her food. It’s pleasant and none descript, with a hint of something Betty could only describe as decidedly masculine. 

‘Earth to Betty!!’ Kevin sing songs; breaking Betty from her trance. ‘Sorry, what Kev?’  
Kevin and Veronica both playfully roll their eyes at her but don’t elaborate. 

‘If I didn’t know better, I’d think Betty had a boy on the brain’ Veronica teases as she pops a grape into her mouth. 

Betty nearly chokes on her orange juice when Jughead slings an arm around her shoulders and feigning shock, whispers into her hair just loud enough for the group to hear, ‘A boy?! Not OUR Betty Cooper.’ 

Jughead gives a knowing smirks as red climbs Betty’s face and neck and she tries her best to laugh off the joke but it comes out weak and choked. Her friend’s laughter at her reaction seems to trail off quickly as they take in Jug’s arm, still draped around Betty as she casts a shy glace up at him through her lashes.

Jug seems to catch the quirk of Veronica’s and Kevin’s eyebrows and the surprisingly angry look on Archie’s face first, because he abruptly stands and announces his intentions to leave. No one at the table seems in their right mind enough to speak. Betty finds her own voice breaking the silence, ‘See you later, Juggie’. 

Jug throws his own pointed look at Archie before pressing a tender kiss to her forehead and whispering a soft ‘See you later, Betts’ before walking off.


	36. Jughead

Jug is still fuming by the time the final bell rings and he’s telling Betty goodbye at her locker before heading to Pops. Betty must sense his sour mood because she doesn’t press him for information- simply has him promise to come back to her house when he’s ready. For this he is truly grateful. Jug didn’t want to come off as the jealous and petty boyfriend quite so soon. 

He just couldn’t help his rage at Archie’s reaction to them being together earlier that day. What right did he have? Betty wasn’t his property to claim; Archie had made it abundantly clear with his long list of conquests that he had no interest in the blonde next door. Why now, should Archie feel some sort of privilege or control over who Betty was or wasn’t with, when Jughead decided to show some interest.

His anger at Archie’s presumptuous and self-centered nature only intensified the longer he thought about it and their subsequent falling out over the summer. 

Jug had been going through hell with his dad and had desperately needed an escape. He had suggested a road trip, which Archie readily agreed too. It wasn’t until the night before they were supposed to leave that Archie had gone radio silent. Jug had called the Andrew's home phone and even taken a trip or three over to his house that night and the next morning but Fred couldn’t tell Jug where Archie had wandered off to. 

He heard from Archie four days later, not bothering to come up with a real excuse, just saying something really important had come up. It was the first time in his life that Jug had ever wanted to take a swing at someone. Could that ‘something’ have been more important than his friend needing a lifeline to escape from his drunken father for a weekend?

Archie and Fred were some of the few people who knew what went on in the Jones’ home. Fred had had to fire FP himself, two months before, when his father had shown up to work drunk and incoherent for the sixth time that week. 

Jug is abruptly pulled from his angry thoughts by a pair of gruff hands that grab him by the collar and drag him roughly backwards behind a dumpster in the parking lot of Pops.   
Jug only minutely deflates when he realizes it’s his father; clearly inebriated. 

‘Hey boy, think you can spare a couple bucks for your old man?’ FP slurs.

Jughead sighs heavily as he takes in his father for the first time in over 2 months. He has a full beard now, scraggly and unkempt. The state of his hair seems to match, though with decidedly more grey in it then the last time Jug had seen him. His eyes are starting to take on a yellow tint, which in the back of Jughead’s mind, he knows can’t mean good things for FP’s liver. FP is missing his serpent jacket, his flannel looking old and wrinkled, the scent of body odor coming off him every time he raised his hand to run agitatedly over his face. 

‘Come on Jug, I need the money, I’m desperate’ he slurs again when Jug remains silent. 

‘I’m sixteen and homeless, you really think I have more money than you?’ Jughead barks accusingly back at his father. 

‘Wrong move’, Jug thinks to himself because the next thing he knows FP has him by the throat, pinned against the side of the dumpster. ‘Don’t get smart with me boy, give me the money, I just need money for beer and we can forget this ever happened.’ 

Jughead swallows around FP’s grip, not needing to lie when he says he has nothing for his father. 

FP’s is furious, grabbing at the pocket of Jughead’s own flannel and tearing it from his shirt before he lets go of his neck to cock his arm back to hit him. Jughead doesn’t have time to duck before FP’s fist connects with his jaw. A sickening crack can be heard, though whether it was FP’s hand or Jug’s mouth he couldn’t be sure. Another blow finds his temple and then his ribs.

Jughead has seen his father in action before, knows how lethal FP can be when he wants, and so he concentrates on blocking punches instead of sending any of his own back.   
Without warning, FP changes tactics; grabbing Jug by a fist full of hair, his beanie long gone, and slams Jug’s head up against the brink wall of Pop’s.

Jug counts one, two, three blows before everything goes black.


	37. Betty

Betty doesn’t begin to worry until the street lights come on; sleepy Riverdale residents climbing into bed and shutting off lights and tv’s. Its only 10, she reasons to herself, and it’s a Friday, he’s probably just decided to stay later at Pop’s. 

When it hits midnight, Betty is definitely worried. She starts to replay everything that happened at lunch and when they had gone their separate ways after school. Jug had been upset, but over what, she couldn’t be sure. Was it her he was trying to avoid? Had she done something wrong? 

By 1 o’clock Betty is ready to sneak out and go looking for Jug. The only thing stopping her is her light-sleeping parents, who would assuredly hear her footsteps in the front hall. She contemplates using the ladder like Jug but doesn’t feel skilled enough to climb out her window for the first time in the pitch dark.   
Betty paces her bedroom floor, cursing her entrapment and the fact that Jughead didn’t even have a phone she could call. 

It’s going on six when Betty jumps in her bed, pretending to just be waking when her parents stick their heads in her door and inform Betty they’re off to a journalism conference and won’t be back till Sunday night. 

Betty’s in the middle of throwing on tights and a sweater to go out in search of Jug when she hears a thud followed by a groan, as Jughead awkwardly, half climbs, half -falls through Betty’s window. 

‘Jug! What happened!?’ Betty gasps as takes in his bloodied face and ripped shirt. 

Jughead doesn’t get a chance to reply as he stumbles into the bathroom, promptly vomiting into the sink before passing out on the tile floor.


	38. Jughead

Jug couldn’t remember how he’d made it back to Betty’s. He only recalls the pounding in his head as he wakes, cold and alone behind Pops, his pockets turned inside out, the contents of his backpack clearly rifled through. He flounders for a moment, taking stock of his battered body.

His lip is split and his jaw and ribs bruised. He wonders if he has a dent in his skull at the way his brain hammers inside his head. He reaches up and finds his hand slick with blood, trickling from his temple and his left ear. 

The next thing he registers is climbing into Betty’s room and his stomach lurching before everything goes black for the second time that night. 

Jug awakes with the urgent thought that he doesn’t know where his beanie is. ‘Betts, where’s my hat?’ he whimpers as he takes in Betty’s tear-filled eyes, while she leans over him, pressing stinging cotton balls to the cut on his lip.

‘I don’t know Jug, we’ll find it’ is Betty’s reply, her voice soothing away his panic. Jug lets his eyes drift closed again, while Betty continue her ministrations until he feels his shirt being tugged off and winces at the pain in his side. 

A strange wave of deja vu hits Jug as he sits up with Betty’s gently promptings, and lets her remove his clothing one piece at a time. 

Betty removes her own moments later and guides him to stand under the warm shower as she carefully washes his hair, trying her best to avoid pressing the lump on the side of his head. There’s nothing sexual about the experience this time. He stands passive and still as the water and Betty’s soapy hands rinse away the blood and grime and the painful events of the previous day. 

Jug feels like he’s in a strange fog; surmising his lack of awareness is due to a concussion, as he lets Betty dry him off and even help him brush his teeth before tucking him into bed, still naked. He watches through blurry eyes as Betty exchanges her towel for panties and one of his own t-shirts before climbing in next to him. 

Betty shuffles impossibly close to Jug, encouraging him to rest the side of his face in her chest. Her one arm circles his back while the other comes up to stroke the hair at the nape of his neck. Her feet search out his calves like they do most nights and his can’t help the knee that jets out to wedge itself between Betty’s warm thighs. 

It’s not until he hears a faint sniffle and feels moisture on his cheeks and forehead that he realizes it’s not just Betty crying but himself as well. 

Jughead falls asleep moments later, tightly wrapped in Betty’s arms.


	39. Jughead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay in updating

Jug wakes alone and dazed. His head and ribs still hurt, though the pounding had been subdued to a mild throb of his temple and chest. The bed is warm, though not overly-so as it usually was when him and Betty shared the small space. As if his thoughts had summoned her, Betty appeared in her door and upon seeing Jug’s eyes open and alert, rushes to his side. 

‘How do you feel?’ she asks as her gentle fingers flutter up to find the lump in his hair before sliding down his cheek and then to his split lip, finally coming to rest on the comforter over his chest. 

‘What time is it?’ Jughead asks instead, not interested in letting Betty know just how sore or completely unhinged he feels from the whole experience.

“A little after 5, you slept all day. I’m glad your awake, I was beginning to worry I did the wrong thing by letting you sleep while you had a concussion.’ 

Jug couldn’t help but notice the pain and worry behind Betty’s tired eyes as she voiced her own fears. She clearly hadn’t slept all day like he had, no doubt up, alert, and wondering what the hell happened to her newly minted boyfriend. 

Jug feels a pang of guilt at the idea of Betty up worrying about him. He wasn’t worth the trouble. 

His self loathing is put on pause as he watches Betty’s beautiful doe-eyes turn watery and round as she asks her next question. 

“Jug, who did this to you?” 

 

He knew it was coming, and yet speaking the truth aloud made it that much worse.   
“My dad” the words are a whisper on his lips; hanging in the air between them as a solitary tear trails down his cheek.


	40. Betty

Instead of offering platitudes and empty promises, Betty finds herself scooting under the covers, her arms coming to wrap around Jughead’s battered frame. She presses a long kiss to the top of his hair and wills herself not to cry for her boy with the beanie.

How could a father do such horrendous things to his son? Especially to someone who is so deserving of love; someone who has all the reasons in the world to choose drugs and deep-seated rage over crown beanies and sarcasm. A boy whose smile, though rare, can light up a room.

How could anyone not love Jughead Jones?

The last thought alone has Betty’s lips wandering from Jughead’s hair. Oh so gently, as if not even there, she lets her lips trail down to his forehead and then his bruised cheek. They kiss away the wet track his tear had left, following it down to the corner of his salted mouth. 

Betty opens her eyes and feels her heart drop. Jughead’s forehead is crinkled, brows pinched, jaw clenched, his eyes shut tight; persistent tears slowly sneak out the corners and undo the work her lips have just done. 

‘Juggie’ she breathes, her mouth so dangerously close to his. 

Jughead’s eyes snap open, staring deeply into Betty’s very soul. 

‘Betts’ he chokes out, his eyes searching, pleading; for what, Betty isn’t quite sure. 

‘I love you, Juggie’ 

And all at once, Jug’s lips are crashing into hers.


	41. Jughead

Warmth, pressure, massaging tongues and tugging teeth. Its all Jughead ever wants to remember and feel for the rest of his life. All that his brain can register as he pulls Betty against his aching body. 

Their kisses are salty as a few stray tears continue to flow. Jughead ignores the intrusion, refusing to let anything take him away from the only person he can say he truly loves in this world; a girl who, for unfathomable reasons, loves him too. 

And all he can think now is that he needs more, wants more! Needs Betty’s heat and love, wants to be the one to fill her up like how she has filled his bleeding heart. 

His ribs protest but Jughead pushes through the pain as he sits up and interrupts their kiss long enough to rid Betty of her shirt and pants. The expanse of creamy, supple skin exposed sends Jug’s head spinning. 

His lips attack her throat this time, sucking and tasting as they make their way to the tops of Betty’s heaving breasts. Jug has no patience for the lacy cups keeping Betty at bay; he yanks them down to the side as his mouth takes possession of a rosy peak, while his fingers work the other. 

Jug mentally catalogs the gasp and sharp cry that escapes from Betty’s mouth at the sensation. Her own fingers coming round her back to unhook the offending garment and letting it slide down and off her arms. Betty’s hands travel to Jug’s hair, tugging slightly and then suddenly much too hard as Jug bites down on a puckered nipple and soothes the spot with his apologetic tongue. 

‘Jug, Jug wait!’ Betty pants when Jughead’s lips start to wander down the valley of her breasts, closer and closer to her core- already wet and pulsing with heat. 

It takes everything in his power to pull away. His body hovering over hers as his war-torn eyes search her emerald beauties; begging permission for him to keep going.

‘Please, Betts… I need you.’


	42. Betty

"Please Betts.... I need you... I love you."

It's those three little words said in return that cause any of Betty's rational defenses to crumble. 

She cups Jughead's face in her hands and brings his lips down to hers in a slightly less hurried but equally passionate kiss. Before Jughead can respond she pulls away just enough that their lips graze one another and whispers "ok Juggie".

Betty's eyes flutter open as she feels long fingers peel away her underwear, leaving both as bare as the day they were born. 

The couple seem to pause then, Betty's eyes wandering down Jug's chest and abs to his obvious erection- the tip glistening slightly with arousal.

Betty feels a tinge of apprehension at the sheer size of the thing. Her concerns melt away and are replaced by a burning heat in her core as she takes in Jughead's own lustful stare. His eyes trace up and down her naked body, not seeming to know where to land.

With a hand much less tentative then the first time, Betty reaches out and grabs Jughead's dick, stroking up and down twice before stopping to twirl and spread the precum leaking from his head. 

Her efforts are rewarded by a loud groan as Jughead leans over her body once again, pressing his face into her neck.

His breathe is hot and heavy on her as she continues to stroke and tease him. Betty's hand falters however when she feels Jug's tongue at her pulse point; sucking and nibbling until she's sure he's left a mark. 

Without thinking, Betty brings her hands up to Jughead's back while her hips buck upwards, her fingers pressing into the hard planes of him, trying desperately to get closer. As a result, Jug's arousal presses firmly into her waiting heat and both gasp at the sensation. 

Jug's one hand braces his body while the other comes between them to guard himself to her entrance. Betty let's her eyes flutter closed, and then open again, as she feels the hot poke of his cock; probing but not quite finding where she needs him most. 

After a minute of fumbling, Jugs eyes turn up to Betty's, imploring her: "please Betts"  
His cheeks tinged pink at having to ask for assistance.

Betty's hand wraps around Jughead's own and guard them both to where he needs to be before letting go. Her hands come back to rest on Jughead's shoulder blades; her finger nails digging in as she feels the first stinging press of Jug entering her.


	43. Jughead

Jug slants his mouth across Betty's with the intent to kiss the fear and pain away. But his jaw remains slack, stupid and unmoving as he pants into her waiting lips. The heat and pressure surrounding his member are all consuming. His brain is rendered useless as all logical thought flits away. All that's left is pleasure and warmth and Betty. His Betty. 

In that moment, the oxygen in the room too seems to have abandoned them; their chests heaving out of sync but together all the same, desperate for air. Jugheads knuckles are white, tightly fisting Betty's baby-blue sheets. His one elbow hooked along the inside of Betty's knee, willing her closer still.

He pushes in an inch or two then pulls out one. The rhythm repeated as Jug eases his way into her. Betty's whole body is clinched so incredibly tight around him, core tensed, her nails digging into his back, one leg wrapped around his, toes pressing into his calf. 

The softest whimper to 'go slow Juggie' breathed into his ear. 

When he's buried to the hilt he pauses to lift his head, haze-filled eyes searching Betty's face. Waiting for permission to move. 

She's like a goddess laid out before him, golden locks struined over the pillow case, creamy skin now tinged pink. Her lips are parted and red, silently waiting for him too.

Her emerald eyes flutter open, so big and green and trusting; and tinged with what Jug can only assume is love. His hand shakes as he brings it to Betty's cheek, catching the single tear that has escaped. His other hand goes to her creamy thigh, hitching it up higher round his waist. 

This time he kisses her, languid and slow, his tongue caressing hers with gentle wet strokes. The death grip her body has on his minutely lessens, and with a reasurring nod, Jug begins to move again.


	44. Betty

The stinging has subsided to just a dull ache and the sensation of being immensely full. 

Betty swears this must be some kind of sick torture- Jughead's strokes so incredibly slow. 

Jug pulls his hips back nearly all the way before pushing in. The feeling of him filling her is wonderfully maddening. The teasing, achy, needy sensation that consumes her as he pulls out excruciating. 

All the words in her mouth have been kissed away, so instead she angles her hips up, pushing into Jug as he does the same and flattening herself against the bed as quick and as far as she can as he pulls out. 

Jug seems to take the hint, his pace picking up as a breathy moan escapes her lips in response. This seems to encourage him further, his hips snapping just a little harder and a little faster. 

Betty's ears are filled with blood, the rest of the outside world slipping away. All she can feel is the low groans coming from Jug against her neck and the pressure of his body on and in hers. 

At some point Betty falls out of rhythm with Jug, choosing to wrap both her legs tightly around his back, her nails scraping up into his hair. She finds his earlobe, bites and sucks on it instead. 

Meanwhile Jug pants loudly into the base of her throat, sucking haphazardly as his hips continue to thrust into hers. 

She not sure how she knows but she can sense when Jug is getting close. His movements becoming a fraction faster. His thrusts a little harder than she would have thought she'd enjoy. 

She feels a heat and pressure building in herself that she doesnt want to stop. It's with the most conviction a 16year old can possess that she moves her head and bites on Jughead's lip, getting his attention and whispers urgently, 'Youre gunna have to pull out!' 

Jug drives his cock into her, hitting her deep and hard. Once, twice, and then he's pulling away fast. His eyes screwed shut and a grimace on his face as his abs tense and he strokes himself once before spilling all over her stomach, in 3 long spirts.

Jug collapses onto her then. His juices slick and sticky between them but neither seem to care. Betty's heart still hammers in her chest as her breathing begins to slow. She presses a tender kiss to Jug's sweaty forehead.

He seems to take longer to recover then she. His breathing laboured and his eyes still tightly shut as he rests his face between her breasts. 

After a moment Better feels his tongue snake out and caress the side of her breast. His head inching over to take a puckered nipple into his mouth before releasing it with a wet pop. 

Finally easing himself up on all 4's and off to the side, both lay in quiet contentment as it begins to rain outside. The sound of raindrops pelting the wooden roof only interrupted by their deep breathing and the exchange of 'I love you's'


	45. Betty

When Betty reluctantly rolls out of bed and pads her way to the bathroom, she's utterly confused and horrified for a moment by the sight that greets her. 

Blood, so much blood. Some dry, some still wet and mixed with saliva. 

She had been expecting the small amount of red between her legs, slowly drying down her left thigh. She hadn't expected the rest of it.

At some point in their love making, the cut on Jughead's lip must have reopened, leaving a orangy trail in its wake. Ironically, her own lips seemed to have faired the best. Her neck looks like it's been coated in iodine, the orangy stain spaning from her pulse point to the base of her throat. 

Her breasts have a smattering of drying lip prints as well as her stomach and chest. 

She wets a wash cloth and begins to clean herself; feeling surprisingly morose about removing a piece of evidence about what they'd just done.

Betty is actually quite relieved to uncover a hickey on the side of her throat and the delicious soreness between her legs as she cleans the last of the blood. 

At some point Jughead sticks his head in the door. He'd slipped on a pair of boxers and goes to stand behind her, huge grin plastering his face. 

Betty smiles back at him through the mirror, allowing him to take the cloth from her hand and gently wipe a few drops of stray cum from her stomach. 

Betty turns in his arms then, stealing the piece of fabric back, and finding a white corner to clean the bit of blood escaping his cut. 

'How are your ribs?' Betty whispers, as her fingers go down to the bruises on his chest. Her answer is a slight wince and a sheepish look on Jughead's face. He doesn't speak, simply shakes his head, his hands gripping tightly to her waist. 

The sound of her parents car pulling up into the drive way breaks Betty from her bliss-filled bubble.

'They weren't supposed to be back until Sunday!'


	46. Jughead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot twist!!! Don't hate me for doing this. Comments appreciated.

Jughead's throat drops down into his stomach; a strange sense of foreboding hitting him square in the chest as he scrambles along with Betty to dress and right her room. 

As Betty is pulling on an oversized turtleneck, he goes to make her bed, spying for the first time the patch of dried blood staining her once-pure sheets. He hopes for her sake she won't have to explain where the mark came from to her mother. 

He opens the window next, wondering if it's just a sexual trope or to someone entering, if it actually does smell like sex.

Both Hal and Alice's footsteps can be heard below and Jug ducks inside the bathroom as Betty plops open a textbook in her lap, faining to study. 

Voices are somewhat muffled through the door, his ears perking up however when he hears his name and FP on the Coopers lips. When the room goes silent Jug cracks the door an inch, spying Betty by herself once again. 

'Betts?' she doesn't turn from her spot. Instead her spin visibly stiffens and a sinking feeling threatens to overtake him.

Walking around to face her, Jug doesn't know what her parents could have possibly said to put such a stoic and deeply hopeless look on Betty's beautiful features.

Something akin to pity flashes in Betty's eyes as Jug goes to sit beside her, his hand finding hers and rubbing circles over it with his thumb. 'Betty, what is it?'

Nothing could have prepared him for what comes out of Betty's mouth next. 

'Its your dad,Juggie. He's... he's dead. Sheriff Keller found his body this morning, he had hung himself'

Her voice cracks at the end, as tears cloud her eyes. Jug remains motionless in disbelief. Surely this is all some terrible dream. 

It's Betty holding up a grey, knitted blob that confirms she's telling Jughead the truth. In her hands is Jughead's crown beanie, muddy and torn. 

'Sherrif said this was in his hands'


	47. Juggie

The next 24hours seem to go by as a blur of continuous questions raised by 'concerned' adults followed by Jug's one word answers.

Did you see your father the night before? 'Yes'  
Had he been drinking? 'Yes'  
To your knowledge, did your father have a drinking problem? 'Yes'  
Did he do this to you? 'Yes'  
Has he hit you before? 'Yes'  
Betty says your mother is in Toledo, do you know exactly where? 'No'   
Has your mother been in contact with you? 'No'  
Have you been living with your father? 'No'

With each answer, the middle class morality of the Coopers and Sherrif Keller are tested. All three growing increasingly alarmed that a minor like Jug had managed to slip through the cracks of society while no adult had seemed to notice. 

Jughead's face grows more stoic, his mind numb with every one syllable word. 

Betty is his saving grace, using the words he can't find to tell about his stunt living at the school and the Twilight drive in. She offers up half truths about Jughead spending his nights on Betty's bedroom floor for the last few days, instead of in her bed for over a month.

Her hand doesn't leave his as they are ushered from the sherrifs station to the funeral parlor. A wall of serpent jackets greet them there; nods of sympathy and respect for their fallen comrade and his wayward son. They promise to see to the funeral and selling of the trailer. In the back of Jughead's mind, he is semi relieved he won't have to arrange anything other than the color of FP's casket.

Betty's parents drive him out to his trailer. It looks more run down and delapitated then when he left. Yellow tap is still on the door from when the police had come. 

Jughead feels as if he's in someone else's body; someone else's life as he fills a large garbage bag with the rest of his clothes and a few picture frames. 

There's nothing else of value there. Nothing of FP's he would want to keep. His mother had packed up all his sister's things when they had gone, along with any family treasures. Although now that Jug thinks about it, would still be very few.

Hours later, Jug finds himself on the Coopers living room couch, faining sleep as he hears Archie and Fred come to pay their respects.

Betty's voice is soft and watery as she tells Archie that 'it's okay'. The ginger had broken down, loud, blubbering sobs about not knowing it had gotten this bad. How he should have been a better friend. 

Jug is happy that Betty is there to hug Archie while he bawls. Not believing he would have had it in himself to comfort someone when Jug had all the more reason to cry.

The funeral is a few days later. Archie comes over with eyes matching his hair, a black suit in his hands.

Jugs eyes are impossibly dry as he showers and pulls on the slightly too big jacket. He lets Alice fix his tie. Her eyes are watery and full of sympathy for him, whispering words about knowing his father in their highschool days. 'He had been a good man. I'm sure he loved you very much.' Jughead just nods, face blank, unbelieving.

All he remembers about the funeral is thinking Jellybean should be here. She shouldn't have to hear second hand that her father is cold and buried and that she never will get the chance to mourn.

Betty's hand finds his as the casket is lowered. 'I'm so sorry, Juggie' whispered into his ear before her cold lips are pressed to his cheek.


	48. Betts

Archie's bedroom floor becomes Jugheads temporary home. Sherrif Keller allowing Fred Andrews custudy over the minor while they searched for Jughead's mom. Though it was clear she did not want to be found.

Social services had had other ideas. A number of social workers with the same pinched face and cold eyes swooping in after the funeral, trying to force Jughead into a group home. For once Betty had been grateful for her mother's pushy, entitled behaviour; saying that the social system had already done the boy a huge misfavour in the form of ignorant, apathetic teachers and faculty at Riverdale high. The same ones who had not noticed an already labeled 'troubled youth' had been homeless. The secretaries not bothering to follow up the countless unanswered messages left for Gladys or FP Jones over the years. 

Alice had literally screamed at one particular worker before slamming the door in their face, 'You don't think Jughead is traumatized enough? His father's dead, his mother's gone, without riping him from the only friends and familar faces he has left!?' Get the hell out!'

Jughead had been sitting on the Coopers couch listening to the whole thing. He didn't react, his hands limp in Betty's own. 

In all his pain and suffering, Jughead Jones had become a mute.

Betty had watched helpless as Jugheads face hardened into a blank slate; his eyes lossing any kind of spark or life, his lips pressed into a straight line. Archie and herself tried everything in their power to pull Jughead from his grief induced coma; smiling and carrying on as if everything was normal for the sake of their friend. 

Jughead simply retreated further into himself. His appetite waning and his interest in writing now non existent. Betty's heart broke a little bit more every time she would kiss him hello or goodnight, his lips pliant but unmoving everytime. Her 'I love you's' met with silence and blank, glazed eyes. 

It all came to a head however, two months later on a particularly dark and stormy night. Like out of a dream from long ago, Betty hears a knock on her window and rolls out of bed to find Jugheads sullen face against the glass, eyes begging entrance.

He doesn't say a word and somehow Betty just knew. She wraps him in a tight embrace as his tears begin to flow. Betty eases Jug over to her bed and removes their rain soaked clothes. Both climb under her covers as a large gaping sob escape Jugheads throat.

They lay for hours this way, Jughead whole body shaking with effort as tears coat Betty's night shirt and sheets. It's long past midnight when Jug quiets and Betty let's her own droopy eyes surrender to sleep.

In the morning the only clue that it all hadn't been a dream is a slightly muddy footprint on her window seat and a matching puddle on the floor. From that night on, Jughead would wait until both the Cooper and Andrew's residents had fallen asleep before climbing up the ladder and into Betty's room. 

They never outwardly acknowledged their arrangement. Betty would awake every night to the creak of the window, the sounds of flannel and jeans being shed on her floor before the blankets where lifted and a warm body pressed up behind her.

Some nights he was silent, simply wrapping his arms around her and drifting off to sleep instantly. Others, Betty would roll over and stroke his face and hair as large, splotchy tears slide down Jugs cheeks. It wouldn't be until three months later that Jugheads mouth would meet Betty's own; hot and urgent as his hands and body explored the rest of her. 

After they were both sated and spent, Jughead laid heavily on Betty's chest, both regaining their breath, before he whispered in a cracked voice, rough from disuse; 'I love you, Betty Cooper'.

And Betty knew everything would be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> First fanfic, let me know if it's worth it to keep writing or not


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